cherry valley forever
tumblr dot com
trying on a metaphor
⁂
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Three Goblin Art
wallacepolsom
@theartofmadeline
blake kathryn
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shark vs the universe
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𓃗
h
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Mike Driver
Cosmic Funnies
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Portugal
seen from Australia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Austria
seen from Singapore
seen from Portugal
seen from Albania
seen from Australia
seen from Japan
seen from France
seen from Uzbekistan
seen from Morocco
seen from Kosovo
seen from Brazil
seen from Poland
seen from Philippines
@apokalupteinx
deadnvcrintern
Jonah is looking for a bellybutton. His father has one; he does not. This is confusing to him. He is confused-- He is confused-- He is--
--He is looking at the stranger with an odd smile on his face, his head tilted, and he points at his tummy, where his bellybutton should be. There is nothing there but a blank expanse of pale skin. Distress paints his features. Why doesn't he have a bellybutton?
❝—-You alright, darling?❞
[ She’s rather amused by the strange boy’s laughter —- she does that, too. Laughs out of nowhere, over nothing. It’s easier to pretend others are crazier, though. She can do that with strangers. Pretend they’re the only ones loony. ]
❝I only just said hello.❞
"Oh dear. My apologies."
How embarrassing. Adam has never done that before. He's never felt the need to laugh before, and isn't sure why he bothered this time.
"This is never happened before. I'm quite sorry if I startled you."
[ I am so very confused. ]
”Pardon?” Anna isn’t quick to smile back, a little worried and very alarmed by the speech, whatever it is. It’s a language she doesn’t recognize, and here she was thinking she was well educated. “Can— do you speak English?”
Jonah's eyebrows furrow. His smile vanishes. His mouth closes.
Bright blue eyes blink once at the girl. Jonah wants to play. Jonah wants-- Jonah wants-- Jonah wants.
"[̲̅y̲̅][̲̅e̲̅][̲̅s̲̅][̲̅﹗̲̅]" It comes out garbled, hissing with static. "ցĸlյรժձﻨ??" He is trying to ask her to play. Jonah holds a ball up so she can see it. It's dirty, and a bit flat. But it is a ball. He found it, so it's his.
milkblood
Jonah smiles at the girl. He is happy-- he is happy-- he is happy-- he is--
Jonah opens his mouth.
"คl๏เร๔кŦкร๔ן???"
(( Added a new character to the blog. ))
Damn twerp.
”I feel young as a sprightly bird chirping in the morn, my good man.”
And what’s that business about not being a kid, anyhow.
”… And you are definitely a child, young sir.”
"Well, you don't look young."
Abez's nose wrinkles. He's not used to talking to adults; most of his friends and acquaintances are around his own age or younger. In fact, he's one of oldest of his camp, save for Mara and his, uh. Android friend. Does Adam even count as an adult?
"Are you from the cities?" That's the only thing that makes sense to him. Abez's eyes light up; he wants to know what the cities are like. "All the old people I know are from the cities."
vacuopectore, notapooch
"HA-HA-HA."
Oh. It appears that wasn't supposed to be a joke. The android pauses, falling extremely silent for a moment and looking at the stranger rather uncomfortably.
" --. . . "
"Oh," she clasps her hands together and turns to face the stranger. "I’m not waiting for the bus." She was thinking, thinking about her brother and how pitiful he looked when she left him. He was so ugly when he cried.
"I don’t know where I’m going." Minatsuki frowned. Defending and feeding herself was easy enough, but wandering around aimlessly was only going to get her so far; perhaps she could team up with the younger looking girl.
Mara is quiet for a long moment, and her hands tighten around the rope. She's contemplating and calculating the risks involved in bringing a stranger into their group. Should she talk to Abez first? Mara herself had been an outsider before being taken in, after all.
"Do you need food?" She has some cans of beans and a twinkie back at camp.
“I wasn’t, actually.” The correction is pointed, but gentle; she knows full well, especially from memories of herself more than anything, that kids can be outright vicious. Besides, it doesn’t take a genius to sense the quiet, roiling strength coming off this one; and Atlas does have that advantage. “Was just walking the same way. Barely even noticed you. Relax.”
It takes a moment of cautious scrutinizing before her shoulders relax. Then her dark eyes are flicking down to the ground, embarrassed, and back up to the stranger. "Sorry." She means it; she's just a jumpy and mistrustful person. "I thought--" No, it's obvious what she thought.
"I'm sorry." She thinks for a moment, then reaches into the pocket of her jeans, removing a small handful of peppermint candles. Mara holds them out like a peace offering. "They're still in the wrappers."
Shiloh Fernandez Alphabet : » Dead Girl
scarredsaviour, apokalupteinx, psychotichummingbird & saccharine-poison
How do you do, fellow kids?
"You're not a kid." Needless to say, he doesn't get the joke.
"...I'm not a kid." He is to most people, but in a world where adults are scarce, he's almost old enough to be paired off.
voxvallisnocte
"You're-- old."
Wow. He only realizes how rude that is after he says it, at which point he sort of scrambles to save it.
"I mean-- I mean, you're older than I'm used to seeing. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you old."
It is a nice coat, she can’t counter that. She won’t move to make thanks, that’s not her style, but the servitude catches her off guard and she wracks her brain for something to ask of him. Since he’s offering.
”… Little thirsty.” She shrugs as confirmation.
"In that case, might I offer you something to drink? We have a sizable selection of wine, procured directly from the Italian Utopia. Or, if miss would prefer, I could run you a bath while I prepare you something to eat."
She appears to need a bath. That's common among those from the outside, which he assumes she is. He may very well be wrong, but hardly anyone in the Utopia has such dirty hair and practical, weather-beaten clothing.
